


The Spy in the Store

by DinoDina



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies, M/M, alternate universe - no aliens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9948683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoDina/pseuds/DinoDina
Summary: After his whole life falls apart, Ianto Jones moves back to Cardiff, where he meets the enigmatic Captain Jack Harkness.





	

When Ianto first meets Jack Harkness, it’s the middle of summer and he’s wearing his rent-boy jeans. Lisa thought they looked good on him, Ianto thinks he looks ridiculous, but it’s the first time in four months that thinking about her doesn’t hurt, so when Jack leers at him and compliments his arse, Ianto smiles.

He doesn’t usually wear jeans so tight or so low, and he _definitely_ doesn’t wear a studded belt, but he forgot to do the laundry and needs to do the shopping, so there he is, standing in the middle of the cereal aisle in his local 24-hour shop, staring at a _man_ and thinking about his outfit.

It’s possibly the most ridiculous situation Ianto has ever been in, and he’d been set up with Lisa by his old boss!

Ianto remembers smiling and saying “Thank you.”

He remembers the man introducing himself as “Jack.”

He remembers them talking and laughing for several minutes before going their separate ways. And he remembers walking out of the shop, thinking about Jack, and only realizing who he’d been talking to as he turns on the car.

He needs to compartmentalize, and fast.

Ianto and his rent-boy jeans had no idea what they were getting into when they walked into the shop. When they walked out, they did so with slightly inappropriate thoughts about an admittedly gorgeous _man_. And when they start driving home, they realize why “Jack” looked so familiar: he was—is—, technically, Ianto’s boss.

Ianto and his rent-boy jeans instantly remember Lisa and the constant pain of the past four months, and he curses himself for having felt so… well, happy… with the man.

* * *

The next day, Ianto wakes up to freshly-laundered clothes, a stocked kitchen, and a mix of guilty and confusing memories.

He’s had problems with his memory ever since his last day of his old job, so it’s nothing unusual to feel _off_ in the mornings, but it’s still unsettling. He thinks he’ll still be getting used to it years in the future: having to work hard to remember what’s happening around him, to deal with the splitting headache before getting up and pretending to be normal.

Especially when the first thing Ianto thinks of when he’s coherent is: _oh, god, Jack Harkness and I are in the same town._

The second thing Ianto thinks is: _how quickly can I move out of Wales?_

* * *

It takes Ianto two days to fully grasp the situation. It’s still odd to know that he needs several minutes to get his bearings in the mornings, but he’s doing better than before.

When Ianto thinks about his current situation, he does so without panic.

He’s able to keep a clear head, and that positive note is enough to keep him going. Ianto eats his cereal and taps his fingers on the table as he lays out the facts. 

  1. _Ianto Jones is in Wales_
  2. _He is Ianto Jones_
  3. _Ianto Jones—he—had went to the store because he ran out of food_
  4. _He met a man_
  5. _The man was gorgeous_
  6. _The man flirted with him_
  7. _He flirted with the man_
  8. _Ianto—he—felt happy as he was talking to the man_
  9. _The man was Jack Harkness_
  10. _Captain Jack Harkness lived in Wales, just like Ianto did, and they ran into each other in a 24-hour corner store_



Ianto had no idea how the ‘Captain’ made its way into his list, but he was correct. Captain Jack Harkness, international hero, private investigator, and part-time spy, is based in Cardiff, and he’s Ianto’s boss.

Technically, at least.

Ianto’s not _employed_ , per se, at least not at the moment. But the way he lost his job was… unusual, to say the least, and he didn’t actually leave the company.

So, yes, Jack Harkness—reputation and all; he really was the insufferable flirt everyone said he was, but Ianto _liked_ that—is his boss. 

* * *

Ianto spends the rest of the day in a half-paranoid, half-depressed mood, cleaning his pristine flat and looking up everything he can about Captain Jack Harkness when he feels mentally stable enough to do so.

He spends the night thinking about what he’s going to do, and he decides on the very simple—and incredibly cowardly—plan: do nothing.

So that’s what he does.

* * *

Ianto Jones is nothing but a coward.

He survived when hundreds of others hadn’t—including Lisa, god help him—and is now without a job, without any friends. He has his memories of them and he has his capabilities and impressive CV, and he’s doing nothing.

Ianto hates himself, but he still does nothing.

* * *

The second time Ianto meets Jack Harkness, it’s still summer and he’s once again wearing the rent-boy jeans. It’s been two weeks since the first time they saw each other, and Jack looks pleased to see him.

They talk and joke for several minutes, Jack complimenting him on his jeans and arse, and Ianto laughing and saying, “I don’t usually wear this, you know.”

“That’s a shame.” Jack flirts, just like last time, but it’s not ‘insufferable’, it’s pleasing and endearing and flattering.

They talk and laugh and joke some more, and Ianto goes home and cries.

Not because his mind is still fragile from when he saw hundreds of people die, although that’s a distinct possibility. No, he’s guilty about betraying Lisa, guilty about withholding himself from Jack, angry at himself for being a coward on both counts.

There’s no way Lisa would blame him from moving on from her… death.

There’s no way Captain Jack Harkness is actually as much of a wildcard as people make him out to be. _Had made_ him out to be. 

* * *

Ianto’s memory doesn’t act out that morning.

He’s happy, he truly is, because despite knowing that the progress wouldn’t completely stick, it still means that the physical reminders of what he witnessed months ago are going away.

He smiles at his progress and sits down to eat some cereal. Guiltily, Ianto tries to forget ever meeting Jack Harkness.

It doesn’t work. 

* * *

The next morning, Ianto wakes up mostly aware of things. It takes him a few seconds to realize what his name is, another few seconds to realize where he is, and another minute for the reality of the past few months to catch up to him.

All in all, it’s an improvement.

At the very least, his head doesn’t hurt all the time anymore, even if his memory is somewhere between shoddy and pathetic, and he’s been warned that he’s going to have to learn to deal with constant headaches and migraines.

He gets his bearings, gets out of bed, gets breakfast, and sets to work searching Jack Harkness. It only takes him a minute to realize he’s already done that.

But the search only shows what he already knows: Jack Harkness is an American, a cross between a spy and a counter-espionage agent, a private investigator, and the new head of the ill-fated Torchwood Company.

The company that Ianto still technically works for, too.

He wonders if he would be allowed back in. 

* * *

It’s still summer, and the next time Ianto meets Jack Harkness is in the park.

He’s outside. It’s rare, nowadays, to find him anywhere outside his flat, because his flat is _his_ , is _home_ , is _safe_ , but there he is. Wandering around the park in the middle of the day, not minding the heat and wearing the damned rent-boy jeans.

They’re all he has left of Lisa, not counting the photographs—he threw out her clothes and all their furniture in a fit of rage, and has been unable to remember where to.

Jack smiles at him, compliments his arse, and grins: “I thought you said they weren’t all you wore.”

“Coincidences, Jack.” Yes, there certainly are a lot of those. Ianto wonders what he’s doing in the park: just walking or chasing a bad guy? “How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

Even spies—and former spies—partake in small talk. It’s nice and _normal_ , and nevermind the fact that Jack’s probably there on a mission and that Ianto can barely remember _why_ he’s there. 

* * *

Ianto can barely remember his own name the next day.

It’s depressing, but at least it keeps him from thinking about Jack.

* * *

After a truly spectacular migraine, Ianto’s able to go about his day.

Sure, it takes him a while to do some things, but he knows he’s making progress, at least from the very beginning: he can see, he can hear, and he still has his motor control.

The fact that his memory seems to come and go doesn’t really factor into it. It’s easy to pretend to be normal; he can function well enough, and the emptiness only comes when he’s not keeping busy.

He cleans his flat and spends an hour reading one of his favorite books. Given his current situation and his past career—which he’s had since his failed uni stint—it’s probably as close to normal as he’s ever going to get.

He watches a James Bond film and tries not to miss it.

* * *

He and Jack meet on the street. It’s the end of summer, the nights somewhere between stuffy and chilly, and they’re both going to the 24-hour shop.

Ianto’s spent the past two days with a migraine and Jack looks exhausted, so they don’t talk much as they walk. Jack laughs at them and compliments Ianto’s arse.

He grins. “One of these days, I’ll see one of your _other_ outfits.”

Ianto agrees: “I’m sure you will.”

The shop clerk gives them an odd look, but welcomes them just as she always does. They stick together as they walk around the store, having somehow found a comfortable silence. Ianto tries not to like it. He really does. But why is it such a bad thing?

It’s not. The only thing stopping Ianto is his self-deprecating conscience, and even that’s off. 

* * *

Running into Jack allows him to brood. He’s never been one for brooding, but the past few months allowed him to learn how his mind works. It’s easy to lose himself in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to stay in the real world.

Once he’s inside, he carefully avoids memories—even the good ones, because they always turn out to be painful—and goes to where he needs to be.

His interactions with Jack are frequent enough to be called regular. At the very least, if they continue, they will become almost routine. Ianto’s not all that averse to the idea.

The enigmatic American is intriguing, even if one doesn’t know his history. But Ianto does. Ianto knows that he was born in America but was raised in London. Ianto knows that he studied under the rogue spy known only as “the Doctor”. Ianto knows that Jack Harkness’s rank is only a pretense, that “Jack Harkness” isn’t even his real name.

It’s what Ianto does, after all. Did.

_Did._

He was counter-espionage. Head of his department: research and acquisition. In a company that was England’s best-kept secret, Ianto worked as a spy, as a counter-espionage agent, as a librarian, as an archivist, and as a coffee maker.

He’s well-rounded.

Ianto knows that Captain Jack Harkness is also well-rounded: a traitor and an assent. He knows that the Captain is intelligent and that Jack is kind. Desperately, Ianto wants to know more about the man; more than files and stories can tell him.

The only way to do that is to ask him.

But that’s ridiculous.

* * *

Ianto looks at the spreadsheet on his laptop.

His bank account: old wages, monthly utilities, survivors’ compensation.

If he’s frugal, he can live on it. He can live on it even if he’s not frugal.

He doesn’t _need_ a job, but it would be nice to have one. It would be nice to be needed, to be wanted.

Ianto’s not in touch with his sister, and the rest of his family’s gone. He’s lost his friends and almost-fiancée. The only thing he’s _not_ lost is his job experience and skill (when he can remember them). But he doubts he’d be allowed back in.

Ianto’s alone, save for his frequent-infrequent interactions with Jack.

* * *

 He’s fuzzy the next morning—he honestly thought that he was almost completely better, yesterday celebrated too early, and now tries not to feel angry at both himself and the situation—but coherent enough to know that if he’s going to keep meeting Jack like he so desperately wants to, he needs to know more about the man.

When he looks up Jack Harkness and realizes that he’s already done that and has completely forgotten it, Ianto had realizes something else: life’s unfair.

For the first time since losing _everything_ and beginning his descent into misery, Ianto’s brutally hit with the reality. It’s a hard enough shock to zone him out for several minutes, and when he comes to, he gets his bearings: 

  1. _The coffee machine’s overflowing_
  2. _His cereal’s soggy_
  3. _The computer has turned off_
  4. _He’s crying_
  5. _There’s a bird at the window_
  6. _Five months ago, his offices in London, at Canary Wharf, were attacked_
  7. _He witnessed hundreds of people—men and women that he worked with, that he was friends with, that he_ loved _—were murdered_
  8. _He survived_
  9. _He lost so much_
  10. _So, so, so, so, so much_



A lesser man would have broken down and cried, but Ianto did all that months ago, directly after the disaster. He’s not done so since, at least, not that he remembers.

He’s pathetic.

Ianto laughs at himself, closes his computer, and goes to make himself another breakfast to replace the one he’s destroyed. 

* * *

Ianto can’t find Jack.

He can not.

He tries and tries and tries and tries, and it’s as if the man has disappeared off the face of the earth.

Ianto briefly wonders if he’s made him up: a friend.

He’s still recovering from a severe trauma, after all, and would likely forever be trying to deal with it.

* * *

 A week later, Jack Harkness is still nowhere to be found.

But Ianto still has a smidge of belief in his mental capabilities—he heard about Captain Jack Harkness when he was in London, and he wasn’t so broken then—so he mostly knows his friend isn’t a figment of his imagination. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Ianto meets Jack in the 24-hour store again, and the first thing out of his mouth is almost: _“You’re real!”_

It’s not, thankfully, and Ianto finds himself saying: “Captain Jack Harkness, my name is Ianto Jones. I worked in London.” 

* * *

Tests. So many tests.

Lie detectors. Blood tests. Thermometers. Ear tests. Eye tests. Memory tests. Lie detectors. Sonograms. Metal detectors. Bomb detectors. Search dogs sniffing at his hands and pockets. Cells-rooms-tables-chairs. Questions-questions-questions-questions.

Ianto thinks his head is going to explode from the variety alone.

He’s not experienced so much since he lost everything, and it’s overwhelming enough to trigger a panic attack. When he comes to, he can’t remember where he is or who he’s talking to, and it’s only after the ensuing migraine passes that he’s able to remember everything.

More tests.

Ianto wonders who gave the people testing him doctorates. They’re mean and rude and condescending, and there’s only one nice one in the entire bunch, and he pokes fun at Ianto, too, albeit in a way that makes him feel human again.

It’s refreshing.

He gets used to the variety after four days.

After five days, he doesn’t even blame Jack. After all, spies need to take precautions. Even if the only reason he came into contact with Captain Jack Harkness was coincidence, it’s too much of a coincidence for it to be completely random.

After six days, Ianto stops trying to follow his own train of thought.

After a week, Captain Harkness comes into his room, and Jack is the one who says “I’m sorry.” 

* * *

Ianto’s given two days to recover.

_Two days._

It’s more than he got to recover from Canary Wharf.

* * *

 Ianto’s able to sum up his seventh interaction with Jack:

  1. _“Ianto…”  
_ _“Yes?”  
_ _I’m sorry.”  
_ _“What for?”  
_ _"Locking you up.”  
_ _“Oh… that…”_


  1. _“Oh, god, what did they do to you?”  
_ _“Do?”  
_ _“You’re… Ianto, are you alright?”  
_ _“Yes.”_


  1. _“Are you sure?”  
_ _"No.”  
_ _“Why not?”  
_ _"Because I was lucky enough to be thrown down the stairs at Canary Wharf.”  
_ _"I’m sorry.”  
_ _“Not your fault.”  
_ _“What happened?”  
_ _“Concussion. Can’t remember anything half the time. Permanently, maybe. I don’t know.”_


  1. _“You never got any help?”  
_ _“Didn’t care enough.”  
_ _“Who?”  
_ _"No one.”_


  1. _“_ I _should have cared.”  
_ _“Yes. But Jack?”  
_ _“Yes?”  
_ _"I wouldn’t have asked.”_


  1. _“I’m sorry.”  
_ _“You had enough on your hands.”  
_ _"It was my duty. … Ianto?”  
_ _“Yes?”  
_ _“What about the other ones? Other than you, I mean. The ones that survived. Where are they?”  
_ _“I don’t know.”  
_ _“How can I help them?”  
_ _“I don’t know.”_


  1. _“How can I help_ you _?”  
_ _“I don’t know.”_


  1. _“I’ll try, you know.”_
  2. _“I know.”_
  3. _“Thank you.”  
_ _“Thank you.”_



Life is so much easier when he’s able to understand it.

Not that he pretends to be able to understand it. At the moment, all he’s happy about is that he’s not put on suicide watch.

* * *

Jack visits him for the next four days that he’s kept in hospital; something about severe bruising and fast healing time; something about psychosomatic symptoms and compiling a recovery plan; something about potential and a possible future.

They talk and joke and laugh, and it’s almost normal.

At any rate, it’s _alright_. _Ianto’s_ alright.

* * *

It’s eight and a half months since London, and Jack’s visiting Ianto’s flat.

He’s forgotten about the planned visit, of course, but he knows his memory is doing much better; he remembers more and forgets less and is able to last a week without getting too scattered.

Jack brings pizza and beer—although Jack only drinks water and Ianto’s still not allowed alcohol—, and they sit and talk and joke and laugh and eat. It’s fun. Domestic. Normal. Ianto loves it.

He and Jack spend more and more time together.

After Jack’s interrogation of him—and Jack’s multiple apologies about it—they worked together to make recovery available for the other survivors of Canary Wharf, people Ianto hasn’t spoken to in months.

If he’s being honest, he feels just as guilty as Jack about the entire situation. It helps, a lot, to know that they’re doing all they can.

They meet for food and films at least once a week, and Jack spends the evening in his flat, telling him about various spy adventures and Ianto wishes—more than ever—that he can get his old job back.

Jack laughs as he finishes a story about an old partner of his, and how they’d once been tricked in Las Vegas. Ianto smiles indulgently at him.

“Ianto?”

“Yes?”

“You know you can never have your old job back, right?”

Ianto swallows. 

  1. _How did he know?_
  2. _Did you tell him?_
  3. _Ianto Jones didn’t tell him_
  4. _Don’t panic_
  5. _Don’t panic_
  6. _Don’t panic_
  7. _Yes, I do, but I can’t do anything about it because I’m both mentally and physically sub-par. I can’t think straight and I’m too “traumatized” to be allowed near anything dangerous._
  8. _Yes, I do, but how did he know this?_
  9. _Don’t panic_
  10. _Good lists always end at ‘10’_



“Ianto?”

He’s zoned out again. Ianto tries not to feel humiliated, because this is exactly _why_ he can’t have his old job jack, and looks Jack in the eye. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” And he really _does_ look sorry. “You can’t get your old job back.”

“W—why?”

“Because I want to offer you another job.”

And Ianto’s holding a stack of confidential papers.

* * *

Many things change. He gets training again, and he goes to see therapists and doctors and gets more training. It’s hard and painful and there’s times when he wants it all to stop, but it all works out in the end.

There’s tears and screams and even a fistfight, but Ianto’s life begins to calm down and he lets it. It’s so much easier when he allows himself to heal.

Weeks pass, and Ianto’s handed the confidential papers again.

Now that he’s allowed to read them, Ianto feels things change once more. 

* * *

He doesn’t get his old job back. He can’t. He’s not allowed in the field, and it’s two years before he gets to hold a gun again. But he gets another job, and it’s just as good.

He’s a PA.

And no, that’s not as glamourous as being a spy, but he’s the man behind the spy, keeping him organized and efficient.

Ianto trains his once-perfect memory to have near-perfect recall. It takes time and leaves him exhausted, and Jack yells at him more than once for it, but he becomes Jack’s best—and only—PA.

It’s fulfilling and interesting, and he doubles as a records-keeper.

His boss likes him, his new colleagues get used to him and eventually grow to appreciate and enjoy his company, and the Queen favors him.

It’s as close to a dream job as Ianto’s ever gotten, even if he would never again get to play at being James Bond. 

* * *

Jack comes over to his flat most weeks. They have dinner and watch a film. It’s just as intimate and supportive as it was before, only now there’s a level of professionalism. Jack’s his boss, and he’s a PA.

But they’re not normal. Jack’s a hero: a spy, counter-espionage agent, private investigator, and Ianto’s best friend mixed into one. And Ianto’s boss.

It’s really no surprise when Jack leans over Ianto to get the crisps on the table and ends up kissing him. It’s no surprise when Ianto not only reciprocates the kiss but initiates another one.

Ianto lets Jack sit back long enough to hear him say: “Are you sure?”

He thinks enough to answer: “Yes.”

Jack seems to hesitate further, but he also seems to trust Ianto enough to know what he wants. And after the first night, it turns into more. There’s a bit of workplace gossip, but Ianto doesn’t feel too uncomfortable. After all, PAs are notorious for getting into bed with their bosses. 

* * *

Few things in Ianto’s life happened as smoothly as him and Jack. They go from friends to lovers and from lovers to more.

They go on dates to the cinema, to the theater, to the symphony, to the opera, to get dinner, to watch the latest rugby match. They split the bill and take turns paying. Sometimes Jack takes him out and sometimes he takes Jack out.

Ianto keeps track of all of that. Given that his last relationship ended in tears and blood and fire, he works the hardest he’s ever worked to keep this one.

They work together, they sleep together, and despite the near-bliss, they have their arguments and their problems. Ianto notes the issues and the solutions, and life goes on. They kiss, they have sex, they spend the night, they hold hands, they move in together.

Somehow, it morphs into a relationship.

It’s more than he’s ever expected would ever happen, and he can’t be happier. 

* * *

Jack and Ianto are in the 24-hour shop when Jack drops his wallet. Ianto makes to pick it up, but Jack motions to him to keep standing, and when Ianto looks back down at him because he’s taking an extraordinarily long time, Jack’s looking up at him with a wide smile.

Ianto briefly wonders if his brain has gone haywire again—and yes, it’s been years since the doctors and therapists, but he’ll never forget how terrifying it is to not know what’s happening.

“Ianto?”

“Yes?”

“Wanna marry me?”

Ianto pinches himself, just to be sure, but finds that he’s not seeing things and that Jack’s actually pretty nervous.

He’s nervous, too.

He nods. 

* * *

Somehow, Ianto’s world fell apart and put itself back together again. He did the same.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first non-Torchwood Torcwhood Au.  
> Disclaimer: I'm not a spy or a secret agent, and I'm not a doctor, so accuracy is questionable at best :D
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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